What a Mess
by verbal acuity
Summary: TezuAto, but not really - He had everything set to his perfect schedule, and the moment one thing went wrong, the rest of his day was completely ruined - oneshot.


**Disclaimer**: Yeah no, I don't own anything besides a few Oshitari/Atobe doujinshis, Genki's photobook and CD, and a whole lotta manga.

**A/N**: Errr. Well. I was angsting... and I felt the need to ruin Atobe's day. I'm sorry that it's not too good. I haven't really written in a while, so... Not to mention the bad title too, yay! I'm on a roll of complete allaround shitty stuff right now. Go me!

* * *

**What a Mess**

There were five things that ruined Atobe Keigo's day today. He had everything set to his perfect schedule, and the moment one thing went wrong, the rest of his day was completely ruined. He wondered if he'd be able to get back on track again, after such a disaster...

--

Tardiness. A man (or rather, boy) of Atobe Keigo's calibur should never, ever be late to anything. It was imperative that he is on time _at all times_. If he's late to anything, then he's surrounded by a dark cloud and hates the world for the rest of the day. His father could never stand for an irresponsible child.

The heir of everything Atobe had started off the day terribly.

His alarm didn't wake him up until two hours before he had to be ready and out the door (and this certain Atobe needs at least three hours to be ready if everything will be _perfect_). He only had about half an hour to shower, as opposed to his normal hour... and that made him feel so, so disgusting. If it wasn't bad enough that he woke up late, he had the prospect of smelling like a normal commoner on his conscience all day, and that on its' own could ruin a man's day.

And now that his shower time has been cut in half, he can only spend a good forty-five minutes scouring his huge walk-in closet for proper attire. He shouldn't have to rush these things! But here he is breaking out in a sweat going back and forth from his button-up shirts, to his pants, to the rest of his accessories and back again in a towel.

Shirt in one hand, he stalks back towards his pants to see if they'd make a good match.

No, of course they don't. Why would his life be made so easy?

"I don't have time for this!" he snapped at the pair of pants that didn't match his shirt. His fist curled up into a ball, and the shirt wrinkled where he held it. Fuck, now he can't wear this anyway.

Thanks to the wrinkle in his favorite button-up shirt, he's lost his appetite. And he can't function if he doesn't have his first meal of the day before he leaves. He doesn't even care enough anymore to address himself as 'ore-sama' now. He won't even think about doing it.

--

Forgetfulness. Atobe Keigo never forgot anything. He always had everything memorized, and he was always organized. But in his mad rush to make it out the door on time, he forgot his notebook with all his homework assignments, and his palm pilot. Of all things, he forgot his palm pilot. As if everything wasn't thrown off as it is... Now his organization was gone.

As for his homework:

If he really wanted to cheat, he could just pay his way through the rest of high school- because he knew everything already- and still get into a top notch college in America. But that wasn't what he wanted. Atobes don't cheat, they go all the way to the end, and follow through on what they've always believed. And if he wanted to play fair, then he'd have to admit his defeat and allow himself a zero for the day...

Oh, God, did that hurt his unbreakable ego.

None of his teachers expected it, and they were in no way lenient towards the great Atobe Keigo's first zero. If anything, they- and the rest of his classmates for that matter- felt better about themselves after this.

He couldn't help but stand up and announce that he should not be treated like this. The other students laughed, and his teachers all held the same triumphant smirk and said, "Atobe-kun, it wasn't I that forgot my homework, now was it?"

Now these were the kinds of people he especially wouldn't bother paying off. They didn't deserve the money or the acknowledgement.

--

Ignorance and disorganization.

A disorganized Atobe heir wasn't a trustworthy one. He couldn't be counted on if his day wasn't perfectly planned out. He couldn't even remember what was supposed to be done today... And to top it all off, no one was even listening to him; not his teachers, not his fellow classmates... and certainly not his team.

Out of all of them, his team not listening was the worst. They were supposed to look up to him, pay attention and _learn_. But they were doing the exact opposite.

Mukahi was more disruptive than usual, bouncing off the walls _literally_, and shouting, "Haha, Atobe forgot his homework! That's so _funny_, ne, Yuushi?" And for once, Oshitari didn't tell Mukahi to stop it. Instead, he released a muffled chuckle behind his hand.

"Oshitari, Mukahi," he addressed them angrily, eyes narrowed. "Thirty laps, now."

They ran their laps, but not before laughing; Oshitari quietly, and Mukahi with an annoying loud cackle.

Atobe almost growled and told the rest of his silent team to get practicing, and if they had anything else to say about it, they had fourty laps to do.

--

Traffic.

The one thing out of Atobe Keigo's perfectly planned-out day- in the palm pilot he left at home- that he remembered... was the impending visit to one Seigaku captain's house after school. He was hoping to God that that actually went well for him. He's had this planned for a week, and he was expecting it to go well. It's been set up in his handheld device, ready and waiting.

So far, everything seemed okay. All four tires in his limousine were intact, it had a full tank of gas, and his driver was perfectly fine. All that needed to be done was the drive across Tokyo to the address that he had memorized in his head.

He got into the limo, buckled up and checked his hair, face, and hopefully-still-unwrinkled clothes. He looked just fine.

The engine started with no problem and the vehicle started moving. Atobe smiled and relaxed. He took out his cellphone, no missed calls, no new messages, but a blinking light in the top right corner caught his eye. Battery low. Hopefully this would last. At least until-

The limo slowed down and he idly wondered why before brushing it off as a red light. But when they began moving again, very slowly, he realized it couldn't have been a red light. He pushed a button on the compound in the seat he was in and called out to the driver, "Why aren't we moving?"

"Traffic, sir," a voice crackled from the speaker. Of all the days...

--

And finally, rejection.

After three hours- of course, the time that it usually took for Atobe to get ready every morning- of painfully slow traffic, they arrived at Tezuka Kunimitsu's house. He didn't even care that it was after seven o'clock and Tezuka was probably either having family time (not that Atobe believed that Tezuka did such things) or doing his homework. He's had this planned all week. Nothing was going to ruin it for him.

He stepped out from the limo, and walked up the porch steps. Without a single glance to his driver standing there dumbfounded that _the_ Atobe Keigo opened the door and got out on his own, he knocked softly on the hardwood door, a smile finally on his face.

When Tezuka opened the door and they locked eyes, Atobe's face surprisingly had a glow to it, and the captain of Seigaku could only stare, adjust his glasses and say, "What do you want, Atobe?"

The pleased expression on the narcissist's face dropped, and he wondered if he'd ever be able to refer to himself as 'ore-sama' again. His day was just such a total mess.

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Please be kind. I tried to do Atobe justice... while I single-handedly ruined his life. I love you, Atobe.

Review, maybe? :3 Thanks for reading!


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